


The Angel's Pickup

by fanofdeliciousflavour



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Innocent Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Pick-Up Lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanofdeliciousflavour/pseuds/fanofdeliciousflavour
Summary: It was only a matter of time before Cas was introduced to pickup lines. Dean just didn't expect the angel to use them on him. (Destiel One-Shot)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 210





	The Angel's Pickup

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M to be safe

"Dean, we have a situation." Cas told him over the phone. His voice was low, deliberately quiet. Dean was immediately on alert.

"What happened? You alright?"

"Someone knows, Dean." Cas whispered urgently.

"Someone knows what-" Dean started, but paused as he heard the sound of laughter, chatter, and music coming from the background. "Cas, where are you?"

"I'm investigating the bar where the victim was last seen-"

"The gay bar?" Dean interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. "You're at the gay bar?"

"Dean, I hardly see why that matters," Cas replied, clearly frustrated. "What matters is that someone knows I'm an angel."

Dean froze.

"What the hell… how?" He demanded. "What happened, exactly?"

"I was sitting at the counter when a man approached me. He seemed to be a regular human, but then…" Cas trailed off.

"Talk to me, Cas. What did he do?" Dean asked impatiently.

"...He asked me if it hurt when I fell from heaven." Cas mumbled.

It took a minute for his words to sink in. Then, Dean burst out laughing.

"Dean! This is serious!" Cas scolded him angrily.

"Cas… it's not like that. He doesn't know, trust me." Dean managed to get out between laughs. "It's just a pickup line."

Cas paused.

"A… what?"

"You know, something people say. It's like, a comment used to start a conversation with someone you're interested in, I guess," Dean was having trouble explaining. Which was surprising, because pickup lines were a concept he was very familiar with.

"I don't understand," Cas said. Dean almost laughed at how confused his angel sounded. "What is the ultimate goal of this?"

"Well, uh, normally? To get a conversation going and then… you know." Dean didn't know why he was having trouble getting it out.

"You mean have intimate relations?" Cas asked, tone flat and emotionless as ever. Dean blanched.

"Right. Uh, yes, have intimate relationships."

Cas was silent for a moment.

"This is… a curious tradition." He finally said.

Dean chuckled.

"Well, that's one way to put it."

"I think I'd like to give it a try sometime." Cas remarked thoughtfully. Dean was startled.

"Wait-"

But Cas had already hung up the phone.

Dean didn't know why he got a weird feeling in his gut when picturing Cas using cheesy pickup lines on other people, but it wasn't pleasant.

 _Whatever_ , he thought to himself. He was Dean Winchester. No feeling was too unpleasant to be forgotten with unhealthy amounts of alcohol and porn.

He headed for the liquor cabinet.

* * *

Dean examined their hotel room with an immense sense of satisfaction.

"Looks like we've actually got decent digs for once." He remarked appreciatively, wasting no time in getting comfortable on the leather couch in front of a flat screen television.

Cas was standing by the door, eyes scanning their surroundings.

"You would consider it nice compared to the rat-infested motel rooms you're accustomed to." He commented matter-of-factly.

Dean scowled, but stayed silent on the subject. Cas had a point, after all.

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and began flipping through channels.

"So, since we've got two rooms for a change, which one do you want?" Dean asked absentmindedly. He was more focused on finding the Hallmark channel. Cas loved those cheesy movies for whatever reason. "One has its own bathroom, but the other's got a view. Your choice."

"But Dean," Cas began quietly. "The only room with a view is a room with you in it."

The remote clattered back to the coffee table.

Dean raised his head slowly.

"Either I've still got blood in my ears from the last hunt, or you just…"

"I heard that line on the television," Cas informed him. "And as you utilize bathroom fixtures far more than I do, I'll take the other room."

And just like that, he walked away.

* * *

Dean glanced at the map he had carefully balanced in front of the wheel. If he took the next exit, they should be able to-

"Dean?" Came Castiel's voice from the seat next to him.

"Yeah, Cas?" He replied absently, eyes fixed on the road.

"I'm going to need that map."

Dean spared him a quick glance. His angel's expression was dead serious.

"Oh yeah? What do you need a map for?"

"I find myself getting lost in your eyes."

Dean rolled his eyes. Even he wouldn't use a line that dumb. It was as cliche as they come.

That still didn't stop him from missing the turn.

* * *

Dean huffed as he dumped his clothes into the machine. He glared over his shoulder at Cas who, of course, had nothing to wash.

"How the hell do your clothes stay so clean, anyway?" Dean asked. "You wear the same damn outfit every day."

Cas glanced down at himself, as if to check that he was indeed wearing his typical trench coat and tie.

"My clothes are made from a special type of material, Dean." Cas informed him. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yes Dean," Cas beckoned him over. "Come feel it."

Dean rolled his eyes but complied anyway, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides and grabbing a handful of his angel's trench coat.

"It doesn't feel like anything special," Dean said gruffly. "What's it made of?"

Cas cocked his head to the side.

"Boyfriend material, of course."

* * *

Dean collapsed in the driver's seat, barely mustering the strength to slam the Impala door shut behind him. The job had been tough, but they'd made it. All he wanted right now was some sleep… and maybe some pie. He didn't open his eyes as he heard the passenger door open and close.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas asked gently, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean's eyes opened immediately, and he sat up in his seat.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Dean assured him quickly, brushing off the angel's concerns. He felt a bit of disappointment when Cas's hand dropped from his shoulder. "How about you? Any injuries?"

"Yes," Was Cas's simple reply. Dean looked him over curiously. Cas looked the same as always. Hell, his clothes had already cleaned themselves.

He still didn't know how the hell Cas did that.

"Care to elaborate?" Dean asked impatiently.

Cas slowly raised a hand to his mouth, never breaking eye contact. Dean tried not to react as Cas placed a finger to his own lip, testing it.

"I have a cut on my lip." He informed Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Come on, man, that's not-"

"Will you kiss it better?"

* * *

This time, Dean was simply flipping through the newspaper on the couch with a beer in hand, looking for new cases, when Cas called to him from the kitchen table, where he sat with his own pile of papers.

"Dean, I've been thinking about something."

Dean glanced up to find his angel staring into space, a pensive expression on his face.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Have you realized that we're always tasting our own tongues?"

Dean sat back, lifting his eyes from the paper momentarily.

"Huh," Was all he said. Now that Cas had mentioned it, Dean could feel the weight of his own tongue in his mouth. "And how did you come to this world-altering realization, exactly?"

"I just wouldn't mind tasting yours for a change."

Dean's head snapped up, but Cas had already returned his attention to the papers in front of him, expression unreadable.

Either Cas had the best poker face on heaven and Earth, or he really didn't realize the implications of what he'd said.

Dean cleared his throat, clutching his glass tightly in his hand.

"Where… uh, where do you get these lines from anyway, Cas?"

"Sam, mostly."

Dean choked on his drink.

* * *

"Sam, why are you supplying my angel with cheesy-ass pickup lines?" Dean demanded over the phone.

He could practically feel Sammy grinning on the other end.

"Last time I checked, the ones I was supplying him with were less cheesy and more… well, I'm sure you know."

"Sammy," Dean growled. "You lost the right to screw with me when you left to be a Sasquatch version of Elle Woods at law school, so tell me what exactly are you trying to do here?"

Sam just chuckled.

"Come on, Dean, they're just harmless pickup lines! Unless, of course, they're actually _getting_ to you."

Dean bristled immediately.

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that this wouldn't be an issue if Cas didn't have a certain… effect on you." Sam knew he had to choose his words carefully. Getting Dean to open up about anything, especially feelings, was a delicate process.

"I'm going to do us both a favor and ignore what you're trying to imply, Sam," Dean informed him, voice tight. "Just… stop giving my angel goddamn lines to use on me."

"Alright, alright, I'll back off," Sam conceded. "But can I say one more thing?"

"At your own risk."

"It's just… you _have_ noticed that you refer to Cas as 'your angel,' right?"

Dean froze. Sam chuckled.

"I didn't think so. I'll talk to you later."

There was a click, and Sam was gone.

* * *

Dean stared at his empty glass. He'd needed a distraction from his mixed feelings, but beer just wasn't doing it for him.

Time for Plan B.

His eyes scanned the room, falling on a pretty young blonde sitting alone at the bar.

Almost as soon as his gaze fell upon her, she turned and their eyes met.

Before Dean could even think to make a move, the girl was up and moving towards him. Without a word, she slid into the booth across from him.

"You lonely, handsome?" She asked flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes. Dean offered her a tight smile.

"Something like that." He replied shortly. This bitch was faker than a priest at a Vegas wedding, but she'd have to do.

She grinned, leaning forward across the table, no doubt to show off more of her cleavage beneath the tight black minidress she was wearing.

"Then you're in luck, honey. I've got a lot of things to do tonight, and you've just made my list." The girl winked, placing her hand over his.

But Dean had frozen. Her hands on his skin felt so wrong. At the moment, he could only think of one thing;

_A pickup line._

_Cas._

He yanked his hand away, wiping it on his jacket as if he'd been touched by something dirty. In truth, he probably had been.

"Sorry sweetheart, but you've just made me realize that I've got somewhere to be."

_And someone to see._

* * *

Cas glanced up as Dean barged into the room. He was lying on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. It was still so strange for Dean to see his angel in such a casual position, but that wasn't really his focus right now.

"Hello, Dean." Cas greeted him.

"Come here," Dean blurted out before he could help himself.

Cas paused briefly, raising an eyebrow. To Dean's surprise, however, his angel didn't say anything, but simply moved to stand in front of him.

"Did you need something, Dean?" Cas asked him curiously.

 _Damn_. It was so much harder to concentrate now that Cas was right in front of him. He took a deep breath, stepping forward until he was mere inches from Cas. He forced himself to lock eyes with his angel.

"There are twenty six letters in the alphabet, but I only need six of them; U, R, A, Q, T." Dean told Cas with a grin.

He watched with satisfaction as a slow smile spread across his angel's face, as Cas realized what had just happened.

Then he tilted his head to the side.

"But Dean, that's only five letters," Cas pointed out. "You said there were six."

"Well, I'll save the D for later." Dean replied with a wink, before turning on his heel and walking away.

Shutting the door to his room, Dean leaned back against it. He found that his heart was pounding in his chest and there were butterflies in his stomach.

He groaned in frustration.

He was Dean Winchester, for Christ's sake. He flirted all the time. Why was this so different?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Cas's laughter coming from the living room.

A late reaction, but definitely a good one.

Dean smiled.

* * *

The next morning, Dean was preoccupied with his cereal when he felt hands rest on his shoulders from behind. Cas brought his head close to Dean's ear, so he could feel his angel's breath on his face.

"You know, Dean, 75% of the human body is water… and I'm _thirsty_."

Dean froze. He felt heat boil in his gut, and tried his best to control himself. But damn, if that didn't make him want to jump his angel right then and there.

"Cas," He started, doing his best to keep his voice steady as his angel began to massage his shoulders. "You remember what I told you about these lines, right? That you use them on people you want to… you know."

Cas chuckled darkly. The feel of his angel's breath against Dean's ear made him shiver.

"Well, yes, Dean. That's rather the point."

Dean froze as Cas slowly slid his hands from his shoulders and walked away.

He waited until he heard the door shut before he let out a frustrated groan, placing his head in his hands.

What the hell was happening to him?

* * *

That afternoon, Dean emerged from his room with a plan and the determination to carry it out. As expected, Cas was standing by the door, having just returned from the store.

Dean crossed the room in a few quick strides.

"Hello, De-" Cas started, but was interrupted when Dean grabbed his angel by the trench coat and pushed him against the wall.

"You know, not many guys can pull off a trench coat," Dean told him, looking Cas up and down. Dean could see the angel swallow, hard. "But you manage it pretty damn well."

Cas seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, before finally clearing his throat.

"Thank you, Dean. That's kind of you-" He began, but Dean wasn't finished.

"Of course, I'd pull off your trench coat." Dean told him in a low voice, tightening his grip on the coat and using it to pull himself closer to Cas.

"I'd also pull off your tie."

Dean reached a hand up to Cas's tie, deftly loosening it before allowing his hands to trail down his angel's chest. Cas was breathing heavily now, eyes locked on Dean's hands.

"And I'd pull off your shirt."

His hands came to rest where Cas's shirt met his slacks, and he paused for a moment. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but he didn't know if Cas was ready for it. However, one look at his angel's expression told him otherwise.

Dean carefully slipped his hands underneath the bottom of Cas's shirt, eyes fixed on his angel's face.

Cas sucked in a breath as Dean's hands came into contact with his bare skin and his fingers hooked themselves on the hem of his slacks.

"And your pants," Dean murmured quietly in Cas's ear. "But I'm sure you get the idea by now."

Now it came down to the choice Dean had yet to make. The obvious one would be to walk away, to leave Cas in a flustered state like he'd originally intended.

But Dean wasn't so sure of himself as his eyes locked into Cas's bright blue ones, which had darkened with desire. The feel of his angel's warm skin beneath his fingertips was a sensation he didn't want to end.

It scared him.

Because the second option was to stay where he was, to wait and see what Cas would do… and maybe initiate something himself.

But was he ready for that?

Cas seemed to read his mind, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Yes, I get the idea. Is it one you're willing to turn into a reality?" Cas asked him in a low voice, moving his hands from his sides to Dean's hips, fingers curling around the belt loops of Dean's jeans and pulling him forward until there was practically no space between them.

Dean inhaled sharply as their hips briefly came into contact.

Seems like he wasn't the only one enjoying this.

"I… I think so." He didn't know why his voice had dropped to a whisper, or why forming words had become such a challenge.

Lifting his head, Dean's eyes met Cas's. In them, he could see the same fire, the same heat that he was feeling. There was no doubt.

Dean made his decision.

Before he could change his mind, Dean grabbed Cas by his trench coat, leaned down, and pressed his lips to his.

For a moment, Cas was frozen beneath him, clearly surprised. But it didn't take long for his angel to begin kissing him back, clutching Dean's leather jacket in order to pull him closer.

With their chests pressed together, Dean could feel just how fast Cas's heart was racing. He had no doubt that his was running at a similar speed.

When they finally pulled apart to catch their breath, Dean lifted a hand to gently cup his angel's face, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. His other arm remained tightly wrapped around Cas's waist, keeping him close.

Cas didn't seem to mind. His angel's smile was infectious, and the affection and love in his eyes was almost overwhelming.

Dean smiled as an idea popped into his head.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Did it hurt?"

Cas paused, clearly taken aback.

"Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven."

He watched as a slow smile stretched across his angel's face.

"Not at all."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Cas stood on his toes to press another soft kiss to Dean's lips.

"Because I didn't _fall_ from heaven, Dean. I leapt towards you."


End file.
